The Lost Angel

Chapter 1

"Never have I ever done an entire mural of dead babies on an abandoned train."

I glared daggers at my best friend, Chloe Rivers, as she smiled smugly and pushed her curly blonde hair out of her eyes. "You're really just going to target me like that?" She grinned at me, her white teeth gleaming in the florescent basement light. The rest of our gang chuckled under their breath; Taylor Jordan, Daniel Grey, Hazel Leeman, and Josh Finn. Sighing, I took a long drink of my sprite.

She smirked at me. "I think we're all waiting to hear about your latest masterpiece, Echo. What did you paint this time?"

I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and handed it to Chloe, my artwork pictured on the screen. It was a red-eyed clown with melting lips and blue butterflies, melting as they flew away. She passed my phone around, and everyone drew in their breath. I  looked down, waiting for the comments.

It was quiet for a minute until Taylor cleared his throat. "Echo, this is intense. Awesome, but intense." He looked uncomfortable, blowing his dark brown hair out of his face and running his fingers along the outside of his whiskey glass. Honestly, they all looked a little uncomfortable.

Josh spoke next, quiet but confident. "Guys, we've known each other for years. Why are we always so shocked everytime Echo shows us her work?" Then he looked over at me and smiled. "It's incredible dude. It really is."

Despite my shyness, I beamed back at him. "Thanks. It took a while and I was pretty scared a cop was going to show up. I'm really proud of it, though." I stretched and glanced at the clock. "Chloe, if you wanna ride home, we'd better go. It's almost curfew."

Chloe grimaced and stood. "Yeah, okay. Love you guys."

She turned and headed up the stairs from the basement, and I followed, blowing a kiss behind me as Hazel yelled, "See you guys tomorrow!"

The crisp cold November air hit my face and whipped my black hair behind me as we stepped out. The remaining brown and red leaves bristled as we crunched in the dark, threatening to fall. While shivering, I unlocked the door to my old, black jeep and climbed in, slipping but grateful for the protection from the wind. Chloe climbed in much more gracefully even with the alcohol in her system, and settled into the leather seat. Her storm grey eyes sparkled in the dark, and she winked at me. "We've got five minutes to make an eight minute drive. Step on it?"

I laughed and started the engine, listening to it hum to life. "Challenge accepted."

As we headed down the street, I became very aware of her staring at me. It was a good three minutes into our hasty drive before she spoke, but when she did I couldn't help sighing. "Echo, I think it's really cool that you don't drink or anything but.. why don't you?"

I shrugged faintly, keeping my eyes glued to the road. "I already know who I am, I guess. You guys find yourselves at the bottom of a bottle, and I found myself at the bottom of a can of spray paint. We all have different coping skills, Chlo."

She stared at me for a few more seconds, then finally turned her eyes back to the road. "Things are getting bad again."

Shit, I thought, pulling in front of her house. Chloe was battling depression, like most of us were, but her medication had recently stopped working. "Do you need to grab some clothes and spend the night with me?"

She shook her head and opened the door. "No, it's okay. I've got a paper due tomorrow. I'll see you in the morning, though."

She closed the door and headed inside. I waited for her to disappear, and slumped back in my seat, trying not to worry about her. It was really hard watching her fight her demons, even if I was fighting my own. I rode the extra five houses down and pulled into my driveway, catching a glimpse of my worried mother peaking out the window, and headed inside.

"Right on time, Echo." My mom beamed and embraced me. "Good night, I love you."

I smirked and hugged her back, breathing in the smell of nutmeg that always clung to her hair. "I love you too. Night."

The lights were off in my room, and I flicked them on, kicking my black high tops off. My dingy Christmas lights that I stole outlined my dark purple walls, and various paintings littered the surrounding area. My full sized bed set on one side of my room, green sheets and purple comforter pulled back, and on the other side was my bookshelf and art desk. A fuzzy green rug lay in the center of the room, and the whole area smelled like rain thanks to my dragon-shaped incense burner. My mom must have lit some a few minutes before I got home. The smoke was blowing out of the nose and mouth in a wispy cloud, and for a moment it almost looked like it winked at me.

I put out the incense and collapsed onto my bed, too exhausted to wash off the paint or alcohol smells and pulled the blankets to my chin. I was asleep seconds later, darkness sucking me in like a black hole.